


Mando’s Little Pet

by Shattered_worth



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Caring, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fear, Gentle, Hate, Love, Plot, Tenderness, slave - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:47:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21601699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shattered_worth/pseuds/Shattered_worth
Summary: The Mandalorian, as much as he wants to deny it, has a good heart. He cannot stand by and see innocents harmed, even if he’s meant to be their natural enemy. Torn by what is right, what his heart wants, and what the guild dictates, he struggles with his decision to protect both the wanted child, and a female pleasure slave.HIATUS AS OF: September 25, 2020
Relationships: The Mandalorian/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 37
Kudos: 213





	1. Chapter 1

The patrons of the watering hole were rambling noisily, many of them already in a drunken stupor, and the remainder were making deals, gambling, trading, taking bounty, whatever it is that they wished to do. Her master tugged at the chain that latched onto her collar, prompting her closer as two foreign looking species entered the building. She swallowed when they looked her over quietly before moving to the bar to chitter out a series of clicks to the droid. He moved mechanically with the faint buzzing of his arms as he mixed liquids together into their respective cups. The mugs were slid across the counter, and two Imperial credits were tossed onto the surface in return, clinging noisily against the hard surface. Her body tensed at the caress on her shoulder from her owner, and she tried to hide her distaste lest he hit her again. The doors parted once more, and slammed shut as the newcomer entered. A collective silence fell briefly over the joint as he entered, his armor notable enough to be immediately recognized by nearly everyone. A mandalorian. A sparse few left so far as she knew, so far as _anyone_ knew. His recognizable armor drew many eyes, but no one dared to make any comments as he approached Greef Karga, the known bounty lord of the guild. People resumed their conversations, trying to ignore the interaction between the guild leader and The Mandalorian. The newcomer tossed a few pods onto the table of the booth, where Greef Karga sat, his arms spread confidently over the backrest of his seat.

"Ah, Mando, you made quick work of those," he said.

She was interrupted from listening in on the rest of that conversation when two species approached her corner booth, speaking in a foreign tongue to her Sullustan master. She winced at the sight of the two humanoid looking creatures, but she knew that they were, in fact, not human. They were appraising her equally, scanning her up and down with their dark eyes as they communicated with him. She turned her head away shyly, embarrassed and terrified, but doing her best to conceal those emotions. She didn't want to be beaten again, for her emotions was what turned off her last potentials. She turned back to the Mandalorian, listening to the only conversation she understood.

"If that's what you wish, go, retrieve the pod from him," Greef Karga stated.

Though the Mandalorian's mask obscured his face, he angled his neck so that the visor line of his helmet leveled with hers. Her eyes widened, and she turned her face, trying to focus back on the two men that were bargaining a price for her virtue. She shivered visibly when one of them gripped her chin and dragged his balmy hand down to wrap it tightly around her throat. She lifted her chin, fearful of his movements and actions. He released her as her master raised his hand, dismissing one of the men. He walked away, clearly grumbling beneath his breath before plopping down into a stool at the bar.

"Mando, you'd have to remove your armor for that," she heard Greef Karga say boisterously, and she glanced back distractedly at him while another man approached her.

She stilled at the sight of the giant tentacled species. He was much larger than her, and even dwarfed the man that was showing the most interest. One of his tentacles wrapped around the man's upper arm and shoved him backwards, grumbling in his own version of language at him. The warrior spat and scraped at the tentacle until it released him with a hiss. Her master perked up, curious as to how much this man would offer him for the girl.

____

The Mandalorian sat across from Greef Karga, annoyed at the lack of bounty to be retrieved at the moment.

"What's your highest bounty?"

"Not much. Five thousand."

"That won't even cover fuel these days."

The Mandalorian glanced over to the rest of the building as Greef Karga hummed. He found a girl, young, possibly not even of age, collared and chained by a Sullustan. She was very visibly terrfied, though she made an active attempt to hide that fear from others. There were male species coming and going, negotiating with her master over price and then either being turned away, or refusing to pay the price he offered.

"There is one job."

"Let's see the puck," The Mandalorian ordered, returning his focus.

"No puck. Face to face. Direct commission," Greef Karga said, leaning back against the booth backing.

The Mandalorian nodded once, then looked back at the girl who was being admired and touched by two different men. He ticked his jaw, not very fond of the exchange himself. She was too young, too innocent.

"What are they saying?" he asked, motioning with his helmet to the small crowd gathered around the girl.

Greef Karga lifted a brow at that, following his line of sight to the Sullustan.

"Mando, you'd have to remove your armor for that," he teased. When he was met with a leveled mask, he tilted his head and obliged.

"They're gambling over price. The Sullustan wants nine hundred for a night with the girl. Many are unwilling to pay...They say she is not worth that much. They could forge a new weapon for that..." he chuckled.

"Ah, she's pure. That is why his price is so high. Her first ti—Mando, what are you doing?" Greef Karga frowned as his favorite bounty hunter stood and maneuvered easily over to the tentacled male that was fondling her wrist, assessing her strength.

"I'll pay what you're asking," he said sharply, making the tentacled man turn to face him, releasing her in the process.

Her face flushed vividly, clearly not having expected anyone to agree to the price.

"Yes...well, so will he. But, I must ask, what does a Mandalorian wish to do with a girl?" he chuckled.

The tentacled man grinned slimily, and slipped a hand over her chain, drawing out the credits from his cloak pocket.

"I'll pay one thousand," he countered firmly.

"Mando, the girl isn't worth that," Greef Karga said, gesturing mildly to her.

Her sandy blonde hair clung loosely to her neck and collar, damp with perspiration. Her skin was pale, milky, but nearly burned by the heat and sun of the planet they were currently on. The redness on her face only served to brighten her gray eyes, but they were dull, and her skin was dry. There was a large gash across her cheek, and a purple bruise formed beneath it. From the looks of her nails, skin, and eyes, she was malnourished, dehydrated, and exhausted. He ignored the guild leader and maintained his gaze with the Sullustan.

"We've already made a deal," the tentacled species bellowed deeply, his sickeninglygrowl making the girl flinch.

“Ah, yes, but I haven't accepted your credits. Very well, Mandalorian, you can have the girl for a night, for one thousand credits, however, I'll give her to you for six hundred if I can watch," he grinned.

The Mandalorian retrieved one thousand credits in Calamari Flan from his waist and handed it to the man. He chuckled dryly.

"She'll escort you to a room. I expect her back at dawn," he smarted, handing over her chain.

The Mandalorian took it in his gloved hands," I'll have her in my ship," he retorted, and the man tilted his head.

"Fine. Dawn."

The Mandalorian escorted the girl silently out of the building and down the path to the ships. He could feel her dragging. She was tired, afraid, thirsty. When they did finally reach his ship, he dropped the chain as the doors closed behind him. She followed him obediently to his room, the soft whirring of his armor doing little to soothe her. If nothing else, she _was_ thankful that it would obscure her vision. Surely he would only reveal his manhood without undressing. When she saw his bed, she did as she'd been told by her master, and laid flat on her back, lifted her skirts, and spread her legs, revealing nakedness beneath. The Mandalorian stared at her for a moment, all drawn up and vulnerable. Her eyes were firmly shut, no doubt expecting immediate penetration. He shifted, moving to stand between her legs at the edge of the bed. He had no intention of actually touching the girl, but she was beautiful, and shy, and so very obedient. He took a deep breath, which was audible through his mask, and lifted a single gloved hand to her knee. She jolted when the back of his covered hand drew lightly down the inside of her thigh, ghosting smoothly over her skin. He stopped just above her womanhood, immediately feeling shame and regret for taking advantage. He pulled his hand back and pressed her knees together gently before drawing her skirts down.

“There is a bathing room just through that door. Go, clean yourself,” he ordered.

She swallowed fearfully. She wasn’t the cleanest, that she knew. Owners typically spent their money in the watering holes rather than on their slaves, but she was unsure of what to do if he denied her once more. She was grateful, certainly, but what would he tell her master when she returned if he did not enjoy her company? She scrambled up from the bed, trying to keep her tears at bay as she moved fluidly to the door he motioned towards. She heard material rustle behind her, and in a split second he was beside her again.

“Here. To change into,” he offered, holding a small bundle of clothes.

She took it, smiling lightly and obeyed his previous command. After she scrubbed her body and washed her hair, she stared at herself in the mirror for a moment. Her body was thin, fragile, and she looked like a pale ghost compared to what she remembered of herself. Nevertheless she braided her hair tightly, the way a slave often did so as to prevent it from getting tangled in the collar she still wore, and eased into the soft clothes. She could tell they were old…worn and soft, but clean nonetheless. The deep red tunic clung to her shoulders and around her breasts, but the thickness of the material hid anything from view. It flowed loosely from there down, but the trousers were tight and comfortable. She longed to wear something like that more often, but she knew such garments would prevent the ease of access dresses provided. When she emerged from the room, The Mandalorian was standing there, heavy buzzing blade in hand, and she stopped dead in her tracks, staring in terror at the weapon he held.

“This isn’t for you,” he said calmly, the vibrato of his voice affected only slightly by the monetizer in his helmet.

“Well, it is, but it isn’t to harm you,” he explained, moving towards her effortlessly.

The whirring of his armor only heightened her fear, and she closed her eyes, counting in her head until she was sure the pain would be over. Instead of hitting her with it, The Mandalorian gently grabbed the back of her neck and angled her jaw upwards. She held in her gasp when the buzzing blade sawed cleanly through her collar, and the man in armor stepped back, letting the heavy weight clang to the floor. She took a deep breath, free from the evil contraption for the first time in months. Even before her current master owned her, she’d been in shackles for a while. She slipped her trembling hands up around her neck, closing her eyes gratefully at the sensation of just skin, raw and bruised, but skin. It hurt, but in a way that reminded her that she was still alive, still breathing, and tears returned to her eyes. She looked at him in uncertainty.

“M-master will be angry that you removed it,” she said softly, rubbing her throat.

“You won’t be returning to him,” he answered, and her brows furrowed.

“How old are you?” he inquired, locking the weapon back into the built-in drawer on the wall.

“Nineteen, sir,” she replied.

“You’re young,” he responded. She was silent, unsure of what to say.

“When was the last time you ate anything?”

Again, she was silent. He moved to the corner of the room where she saw a bowl of thick, warm porridge, and her mouth watered at the sight. Beside it was a large basin of water and a piece of dehydrated meat. She opened her mouth, but she could think of nothing to say.

“Here, eat and drink this. It’s not gourmet, but it’ll do the job.”

She looked up at him, wishing she could see through the mask. He was about a foot taller than her, so she already struggled to identify him as a person rather than a droid. 

“This…this is for me?”

“Yes,” he nodded once,” eat and then sleep here. I’ll be back later in the night, but I will see you in the morning.”

He folded the blanket back and dragged the propped pillow down for her to rest her head on, but her eyes widened into saucers.

“Wait, but if-if you don’t take my maidenhead, my master will know and then he’ll—he’ll hurt me, please, sir, please, you must—“

“ I told you, you will not be returning to him. You obey me until further notice,” he said sharply, and she bowed her head in resignation.


	2. Chapter Two

The Mandalorian found himself thinking on the girl as he travelled back to the town, intent on visiting a certain underground leader. He flashed his card to the outdated camera droid, and as the door slid open, a pair of stormtroopers greeted him. He rolled his eyes behind the mask, paying little attention to what they said as they led him forward into another room. A man sat before him at a desk. He appeared to be older, but depending on his species if he wasn’t human, he could’ve been anywhere from forty to five hundred.

“Greef Karga said you were coming,” the man said calmly as the doors slid shut behind him. 

The Mandalorian glanced crookedly at the stormtroopers brandished weapons and tilted his head back. 

“What else did he say?” 

“He said you were the best in the parsec…and that you’ve taken a girl to enjoy for the night,” he smirked lightly. 

The door slid open again, and this time a man entered unannounced, interrupting the proceedings without regard for who he was dealing with. The Mandalorian flicked his weapon up so swiftly that the stormtroopers ordered him to freeze. 

“No! Drop your weapons.” he shouted in response, fully engaging with this surprise visitor. 

They all responded with an equal tempermental answer—a resounding no. 

"Pardon. Uh, sorry. I didn't mean to alarm,” the man, wearing thick-lensed glasses spoke, his hands still high in the air and his head down.

" This is Doctor Pershing. Please excuse his lack of decorum. His enthusiasm outweighs his discretion. Please lower your blaster,” the man behind the desk said, standing in acknowledgment of their predicament.

"Have them lower theirs first,” he snapped back.

"We have you four to one,” a stormtrooper scoffed.

" I like those odds,” The Mandalorian said firmly.

The man that was in charge gestured for his men to lower their weapons, and they did so slowly, leaving the foreigner to follow suit. His jaw ticked in annoyance, not fond of this man’s insight into his business nor the way in which he conducted his own.

"He also said you were expensive. Very expensive. Please sit.”

The Mandalorian hesitated, but he wanted the puck; he needed the money, so he sat. He watched as the man lifted a passcode locked chamber from the ground, and as he entered the code, the machine hissed with a click, signifying its opening. A soft steam bellowed from the exposed crevices, and a quick flick of the handle revealed two thick slates of dark metal.

“Beskar?” The Mandalorian asked intently, leaning forward as he took a closer look.

"Go ahead. It's real. This is only a down payment. I have a camtono of Beskar waiting for you upon delivery of the asset.”

He carefully examined the slate, clenching his teeth discreetly at the sight of the Imperial brand.

“Alive,” he supplied.

"Yes. Alive. Although, I acknowledge that bounty hunting is a complicated profession. This being the case, proof of termination is also acceptable for a lower fee,” the man stated, reclining proudly in his seat. 

"That is not what we agreed upon,” Doctor Pershing interjected.

The man shrugged nonchalantly," I'm simply being pragmatic.”

The mercenary returned the slate to its chamber and nodded,” Let’s see the puck."

"I'm afraid,” the man hesitated," discretion dictates a less traditional agreement. We can only offer you a tracking fob."

He slid an outdated tracking fob over the table, and it dinged dutifully with a red blinking light. 

"What's the chain code?”

We can only provide the last four digits."

"Their age? That's all you can give me?” he asked, baffled.

"Yes. They're 50 years old. We can also give you last reported positional data. Between that and the fob, a man of your skill should make short work of this.”

Disgruntled, the Mandalorian collected the steel and the tracker before moving towards the door, his heavy footsteps dropping harshly onto the iron floor. But, he paused as the man spoke up once more. 

"The Beskar belongs back into the hands of a Mandalorian. It is good to restore the natural order of things after a period of such disarray, don't you agree?”

He tilted his head slightly in acknowledgement on his way out. 

_____

"This was gathered in the Great Purge. It is good it is back with the Tribe,” the female armorer, stated.

" Yes.”

"A pauldron would be in order. - Has your signet been revealed?”

"Not yet.”

“Soon."  
  


He watched as she placed the steel on a heavy iron cast and then roared it into the fire. With every hard temp of pressure she applied with the mallet, he experienced flashbacks to his childhood, of his family right before they were killed. He left after his cauldron was placed nearly immediately. 

When he returned to his ship, he found himself unable to ignore the girl’s presence. He was tired himself, but he would not sleep in front of her, particularly not without his helmet and armor. He opened the door to his room, expecting the girl to be in a deep slumber beneath the blankets peacefully, but he was surprised to see her sitting up, fiddling anxiously with her hands. 

“What are you still doing awake?” he asked, the huskiness in his voice from sleepiness cutting clearly through his mask. 

She jolted, and fear rocketed through to her fingers before she able to summon an answer. 

“I-I just…I was thinking. I’m sorry, I’ll go to sleep, sir,” she responded worriedly, pulling the blankets to her shoulder as she readjusted.

“What about?” he inquired, moving into the room. 

“Well, I’m just unsure is all. My master—former master, made clear what it was he expected of me. I know your tribe of people is…reserved, and so I am not sure how to proceed in this situation. I do not wish to displease you, but…I know what sort of strength you have, and I admit that I am fearful you will be less forgiving than my Sullustan,” she said quietly, her voice wet and heavy with emotions, and he knew that she had been crying. 

“I have no intention of harming you…or taking advantage for that matter. Your body is yours to do with as you please, as it should be. You have no reason to worry. My plan is to deliver you to a kind family on the next planet we arrive on and see to your safety. That is all.” 

She inhaled sharply, her eyes brimmed with heavy tears that she fought valiantly to prevent their falling. She bowed her head in relief and nodded, a lightness filling her chest for the first time in months. 

“You spent a lot of credits on my rescue. If you mean to set me free, how can I repay you?” she asked softly. 

He stared at her for a moment. Parts of her reminded him of himself when he was a child. She had a naivety to her that was refreshing and also worrying. He worried for her safety, for her happiness and her recovery. She was clearly willing to do anything he asked, and nothing seemed to steep a price or task. She was scared. He wanted to reach out to her, to hold her and tell her that everything would be all right. But, when his family was killed, the Tribe took him in without all the coddling. They gave him his helmet and taught him how to fight, how to protect himself. This is the way. He tilted his head. 

“Tomorrow when you wake, we will train. I will teach you how to shoot and how to fight. You will regain your strength, and you will learn how to keep yourself from these positions again. Do you understand?” he asked. 

She nodded, swallowing nervously in the process,” But, that only helps me. Why would you do more for me instead of letting me do something for you?” she countered. 

He straightened up,” Maybe you will one day. This is the way.” 


	3. Chapter Three

When she woke the next morning, she was uncertain of what to do. She understood that the Mandalorian was not permitted to show his face to her, so she was weary of moving from the room he left her in. She did move from the bed, but only to use the restroom and wash her face. She supposed that the Mandalorian heard her up and moving around, because within the next few moments, he had entered the room. She looked up at him curiously, waiting for instruction and order. 

“You should eat, and then we will train,” he stated curtly, watching her shift in compliancy. 

She stood and followed him into the kitchen compartment where there was a bowl of bone broth waiting for her, hot and full of flavor. 

“I wish you would allow me to repay you for your kindness in some way,” she said softly, sitting herself down in the chair. 

He leaned back against the wall, watching carefully as she enjoyed her small meal. She felt anxious with him watching her, and it made her clumsy. Her hands were shaky, and cold from being so thin and frail. She struggled to get the spoon in her mouth, because even though it wasn’t heavy, she was so unaccustomed to being allowed so much freedom of movement. She flinched when he pulled the chair out beside her, and she froze when he sat down. He looked at her through his mask, and she was grateful it was covering his face, to save her own embarrassment. 

“We’re not going to train today. You need to regain your strength. Rest more,” the tone of his monetized voice had softened ever so slightly, and she was too shy to meet his gaze, even though it was invisible beneath the vizor. 

Her face flushed in humiliation, and she looked down at her nearly empty bowl. 

“I’m fine, really—“ 

“Don’t lie,” he interrupted sharply, which he soon regretted when he saw her stiffen and lower her head. 

“Have you had that tended to?” he asked, this time is voice was softer again. 

She peered up at his vizor and hesitantly touched her fingers to the gash at her cheek, which was still oozing. Her brows furrowed, and he took that as his answer. 

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked, standing and moving to the clean metal grid in the wall. 

She wouldn’t look at him until he sat back down with a small kit. She watched his gloved fingers remove the bacta spray from the pack, and he scooted his chair closer to her. She licked her lips nervously when he gripped her chin lightly. 

“Close your eyes.” 

She obeyed, feeling him tilt her head for easier access. She shivered when the cold spray misted over her cheek. He paused, letting that dry before he applied the next layer. 

“You need to tell me. Otherwise you will be in a lot of pain when we start training.” 

She opened her eyes and looked up at him, then shook her head,” No, sir.” 

He peered down at her, motioned for her to close her eyes again, and finished closing the wound. 

_____

He wanted to send her back to his small bunk, but she had refused, claiming she’d already stolen one night of good rest from him and that the least she could do was allow him to sleep. He sighed and made her strap herself into the pilot’s chair, where he taught her basic controls, but considering his ship was in hyperdrive, there wasn’t much for her to do, so she could rest. And he did drift off to sleep in his bunk, fully clothed, only without the armor and his helmet. He could smell her on the sheets, and it smelled much like his soap—clean, somewhat masculine, but with her natural scent, it was sweeter. He breathed it in quietly, closing his eyes as he remembered her bare skin and parted legs. She was beautiful, youthful, soft, and shy. He clenched his jaw and looked towards the bathroom, trying to erase it from his memory. He could never touch her. He paid for her, but she wasn’t his property. He had no right to her body no matter how much he wanted it. He grunted and rolled over, willing himself to sleep. 

She thought about him while sitting in his chair. About the way he had touched her. Last night when she revealed herself to him, he was so gentle. Kind…almost affectionate, it was something she hadn’t experienced in a long while. She held her breath, remembering the way he had stroked her thigh. The smooth leather of his gloves felt good against her skin, and some foreign part of her wanted him to do it again, just to touch her. He seemed warm, and she was perpetually so cold. She shook the thoughts from her head and glanced down at the controls. Blindly, she traced the panels, swirling her fingers around the ones that were far away to the point that her arms ached for holding them up. She leaned back, watching the stars pass by in a blur. She closed her eyes and brought her knees to her chest, intent on sleeping off her strange feelings and a headache. 

____ 

She stirred at the sensation of her seat belt being unfastened and sliding from her body. She couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes, at least not until she felt _his_ armoured arms slip beneath her. She drew in a sharp breath, breathing in his warmth and his fantastic scent. Her eyes fluttered open long enough to see him focused on situating her in the copilot chair. She shivered at the cold steel of his armor as it glided over her tunic, and fastened the seatbelt back over her chest. He removed his cape, thick and black and warm, and draped it over her. She caught it in her numb fingers and smiled gratefully at him. 

“ I could have moved,” she said pointedly, catching him somewhat off guard with her directness. 

“You need rest,” he redirected, and she fiddled with the cape. 


	4. Chapter Four

She clutched the cloak to her chest and watched him as he piloted. He was so skilled, avoiding the astroid belt as though it were nothing, just as he’d picked her up as though she were nothing. It was hard to ignore his armor. For the most part it consisted of random selections of materials, all colors and quite banged up, but it did the job. All that was real beskar was his helmet, which they were never permitted to remove in the presence of another living creature. She was beginning to warm up beneath his cloak, and the swaying of the ship made her sleepy again. She couldn’t bring herself to look out at the asteroids, even though she felt the Mandalorian was competent enough to navigate them, it still made her nervous because of how dangerous it is. Somehow, even with the helmet she was able to pick up on little cues that conveyed his emotion or attention—the way he’d tilt his head, turn towards, look up or down, all indicated something different depending on the context or the situation. She felt her eyes droop, but not before he turned back to look at her after clearing the rocks. Her eyes opened to try to meet his gaze, but he turned back to the window. 

“Sleep,” he ordered, and she frowned. 

“I’ve been sleeping,” she argued, though she couldn’t help but yawn afterwards. 

“Sleep,” he repeated, this time, his voice was more amused. 

She sighed and curled onto her side, fighting with the seatbelt slightly for comfort. 

“Down in my bunk. You’d be more comfortable. Take my cloak,” he insisted, noticing her quick attachment to it. 

“I don’t—“ 

“Don’t argue with me,” he interrupted, and with a sigh, she obeyed once more. 

This time, it was much harder to fight her instincts when she slipped into his bed. His entire quarters smelt of him, but particularly the bed. She wondered if he slept naked, for she knew he at least slept without the armor and the helmet. He had to for his sheets and blanket to smell so strongly, she thought. But it smelled so nice and soothing, and having his cloak made her feel even safer. She was surrounded by his scent and him, and with that, she couldn’t possibly stop herself from thinking about his hands again. They were so skilled and they worked so efficiently and confidently, yet when he touched that night, he’d been so hesitant. She truthfully couldn’t get it out of her head. Was she completely undesirable? Was that why no one had wanted to buy her? Was that why he wouldn’t touch her? And then she pondered the way he’d touched her earlier. He’d lifted her so easily to move her when he could’ve woken her, so why didn’t he? Maybe he had wanted to touch her. She certainly enjoyed this brief few seconds of being pressed against him. He was warm and soft and despite the armor and he made her feel safe. She hadn’t been held like that in a very long time, and she longed for it. Every part of her longed for some sort of connection or affection, anything that made her feel wanted. She curled in on herself, drawing his cloak to her chest as she let out a soft sob, for everything. She cried for the life she’d been subjected to and the family she’d lost, for everything she’d gone without and everything she would never be allowed to have. She must have lost track of time, or simply not realized that she’d been out of it. But the Mandalorian walked in, either having heard her sobbing or to use the vaccinator tube, maybe even to grab something—she couldn’t be sure. When he saw her, he paused in the entryway, his vizor line focused on her. 

“You’re upset,” he said quietly, the static in the mask cruising through his voice plainly. 

She sniffled and wiped her face,” I’m fine. I-I’m relieved really.” 

He watched her for a moment before moving towards the cot. It wasn’t an excellent bed, mostly just something to rest on in between missions or quarrys. 

“ What do you need?” came the question. 

And she looked up at him, brows furrowed. 

“You’ve given me so much, there’s hardly anything I could ask for.”

Slowly, he eased down onto the cot, slow enough that she could still stop him if she wished. Her eyes fell to his chest plate, scanning it in resignation, as he seemed intent on not taking no for an answer. 

“Are you cold?” 

“No.” 

She fiddled with the cape absently, and she felt insecure beneath his gaze. Her hair fell around her eyes obscuring her face from his vision, which apparently he wasn’t overly fond of, ironically enough, as his gloved fingers brushed it back behind her ear. He collected a few of her spare tears with his finger, brushing them off her face, and instinctually she leaned into his hand. Then it was if it dawned on him so suddenly. She was touch-starved, scared, lonely, and uncertain, and the poor girl longed for comfort. He took a breath and stood dup, and she fought back a fresh set of tears upon realizing that he might be leaving. Instead, he removed some of his bulkier armor, the chest plate and pauldrons, before returning to his previous position. He offered her a hand, and she stared at the supple leather. When he realized she wasn’t going to take it, delicately he slid it beneath her upper back, and the other beneath her waist. She stifled a sob as best she could, but the moment he drew her into his chest, she lost al control. A deep sob wracked her chest and he held her tightly, smoothing her hair back from her face and rubbing her back. It’s easy to forget that there’s a man beneath all that armor, but here he was, doing the very thing she’s needed all along. She buried her head into the curve of his shoulder and cried until she was just hiccuping. She sniffled wetly against him, and he hummed from beneath the mask as he pulled her up completely into his arms. Her legs slotted neatly on either side of him, and she trembled when she felt him stand. He wrapped his cloak around her shoulders, and supported her with one hand while the other grabbed his discarded armor from the floor. He carried her easily up to the cockpit, not willing to put her down even as he situated himself into the pilot seat. It was a tight fit, but he made it work as she clung to him. 

“You should have told me,” he said knowingly, adjusting some of the controls. 

“And say what?” she whispered. 

He was quiet for a moment as he rubbed her back, “That you needed to feel safe,” he responded. 

And she gripped his cloak impossibly tighter. 


	5. Chapter Five

She was curled against his chest still, resting quietly as he continued to maneuver the aircraft. He’d let her drift off to sleep, clinging to his warmth as he prepared the Razor Crest. His eyes closed beneath the mask, just for a moment as he cleared the asteroid belt and entered the atmosphere of the planet. Her breath was warm as it fanned across his neck, mostly concealed by his tunic, but he could feel the wet heat even through the material. He felt her ankles tighten around his waist, her chest vibrating as she shifted against him, needing to be closer. He carded his fingers weakly through her long hair, which hung around her in soft waves. He nearly tore his gloves off, touched her hair with his own hands, but he knew if he tested those boundaries he wouldn’t want to stop. He’d touch her cheek, then her neck, and he wasn’t sure he could handle what came next. She nuzzled his neck, bumping the back of her head against his helmet and shifting it slightly. His breath caught in his throat, ready to drop her to stop his helmet from coming up and revealing his skin.

He stood up suddenly and carried her down the hatch back to the bunk where he nestled her in the comfort of his bunk. She whimpered at the loss of him, and he found himself smoothing a hand over her cheek, a silent promise that he would return to her. Her eyes fluttered open sleepily at him, and he paused, glancing down at her like he might say something, but she just offered a small smile and curled back in on herself, content on watching him leave. He felt sorry for her, that’s all that it was, he told himself.

He was only comforting her, as he should. As a Mandalorian it was in his creed to protect children, to look after them and take them in if they have no one else, as a foundling. Heritage didn’t matter...But she wasn’t exactly a child. She was a grown woman, young, but a woman well enough to care for herself. And yet, he felt the need to protect her in nearly the same way he felt the need to protect foundlings. He silenced his thoughts as he returned to the controls to land the ship. All that could be heard was the tense vibration of landing and his static masked breath. The planet was a familiar one. He’d only landed there maybe twice his whole to fuel up, but he knew how to navigate the area. He had reservations about leaving on board alone, but she do well enough until he returned to the hanger. He opened the door to his bunk and looked over carefully, curled up in his bed, clutching at his clock which he had no intention of taking from her now. He almost called her name to wake her, but then he realized he had never asked, he didn’t need to know, really. Anyway, he couldn’t tell her his own and it seemed safer for them both to leave that as an unknown. Names give identity, identity allows for affection, and he didn’t need that. He would protect her, that he was sure of, determined to do. He would be her comfort when she needed it. He would hold her andmake her feel safe. He would make sure she was fed and rested and healthy. But he couldn’t do more than that. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t let her feel things for him when he could never provide anything.

He opened the door to the ship and closed it once he’d gotten off. He needed supplies—more food, more fuel, probably some clothes for the girl. So that’s what he did. The hanger he flew into had an attendant that filled his ship up, and he left him with some credits for the short time he’d be on the planet. He moved seamlessly through the market. It was small, hardly considered a shop, but it would do. He had already purchased some more rations, but he stared down at the toiletry section and grabbed a few small things for basic hygiene. And then he found a bundle of clothes that though they were slightly larger, she would grow into them once she filled out and gained a little bit of weight. When he got back to the ship, she was wrapped up in his cloak in the copilot seat. He passed over the bundle of clothes and toiletries, and she smiled gratefully up at him. She slipped on the socks and shoes and wiggled her toes, pressing her feet to the ground a few times. She stared at him for a moment, deep in thought as he prepared the ship for take off. He turned his head back towards her, and then lowered his head, silently indicating that she fasten her belt. Her brows furrowed at him, confused at first. He sighed heavily through his helmet, and the crackling static filled the air. He stood from the controls and knelt down in front of her. She watched in confusion until he pulled on the belts. A blush blossomed in her cheeks, and she shifted her arms, moving to catch the belt in her own hands. 

“I can do that. I forgot,” she admitted sheepishly, and he pressed her hands away gently before tugging her arms through the holes. 

His vizor shifted up towards her eyes, and then back to her chest, where he was fastening the clips. She watched his gloved fingers work, tugging the straps so the belts were firmly against her chest. 

“You know you didn’t have yours on either,” she pointed out meekly. 

He stood back up and looked down on her, and without much thinking about it, brushed her hair behind her ear. When he sat back down, he made of point of looking her way as he fastened the belts around himself. She giggled softly, and his chest tightened at the sound. He gritted his teeth as he pushed on the lever, lifting the ship off the ground for take off. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him, mostly because she couldn’t understand him. He felt her eyes on him, but he was used to being watched so it didn’t bother him very much. 

“Why are you doing all of this?” she asked curiously, her voice failing at concealing her confusion. 

He glanced back at her, as if to ask what she meant. 

“Why did you help me, I mean,” she corrected,” Why are you being so kind?” 

He sealed the ship into hyperdrive and turned his chair towards her, unfastening his belt along the way. She glanced down at his hands as he leaned forward towards her and unfastened hers, his fingers lingering a little longer than necessary on her elbow as he let it drop. He stood and moved in front of her, his hand trailing down to his cape which was still sling over her. He fingered it for a moment despite not being able to touch it with his actual skin. 

“Because you are an innocent, and you didn’t belong in chains.” 

She watched him walk away. 

“I’m going to sleep. We’ll be in hyperdrive for about forty hours. You shouldn’t have to do anything before I wake up.” 


	6. Chapter Six

He’d been correct in his assessment. It was forty hours before they were near enough to the planet to begin the landing sequence, and she sat quietly in the cockpit while he shifted gears and adjusted knobs, thoughtfully making calculations that the instruments didn’t allot for. The landing was smooth and effortless it seemed, but as she powered out through the window, she saw nothing for miles but red clay and hills. There didn’t appear to be any civilizations present on the planet, but she assumed that they had just arrived at a more desolate area and would have to walk. He unfasted his belt, and she followed suit, standing up after him and clicking her heels together patiently as she waited for him to open the hatch.

The door slid open, and he helped her maneuver down the hatch after him, lifting her off the last few rungs impatiently, a hand settled on either side of her waist. Over the last forty hours or so, she’d been particularly nervous around him. He comforted her in a way she’d never really experienced, and it made her anxious. She loved being cradled in his arms, against his chest with her face pressed into his neck. He was so warm, and though the clothes he provided her with were well-insulated well, she couldn’t deny that she craved him, to be against him and to feel so extremely safe and secure. He’d held her a few more times since the first. The second time it was when she’d woken up screaming and crying from memories that haunted her dreams. He came thundering down the hatch and through the bunk room door in seconds, alert and concerned. She was kicking and screaming, clawing at her own body fearfully until he literally had to straddle her and hold her down. She came to slowly, whimpering and begging until her wet eyes finally opened. Her breath whooshed out of her suddenly at the sight of him, and she fought to draw it back. She was trembling, coated in sweat and thoroughly disturbed. She slumped suddenly, surrendering herself to him as he loomed over her. He collected her gently up in his arms and sat back as he pulled her into his embrace. She shivered and leaned into him, and once more, he removed his chest plate so that the cold metal wasn’t pressed into her breasts. He rubbed her back firmly, pulling the cloak over her. 

He opened his weapon cabinet, the one he kept locked, and removed his stun gun followed by three knives and two smaller blasters. He situated two knives on his person, one at his hip and the other at his boot. He removed two leather straps from the cabinet and glanced back at her, where she was watching out of interest.

It wasn’t his kindness that made her uneasy, but more so the feelings that his comforting brought her. She was skittish now, shifting away when he reached to do her seat belt or move her hair, or touch her in any way. She would lean away from him, politely push his hands away and do it herself. And now that they were finally landing, she was expecting to be sent to a family, like he had told her originally. She would be placed in a home, with strangers, but at least she would be away from him, away from his soft touches and brushes against her. It was too much, and words couldn’t express the way it made her feel. Her belly ached with uncertainty and nerves. When he was around her, her stomach fluttered, her head was swimming. She wanted him to touch her, but she didn’t want him to stop. She wanted to see beneath his helmet, to feel his real hands on her skin and against her. And, as ashamed as she was to think, let alone say it…she desired him in a way she had never desired a man before. She wanted him to kiss her, to touch her in places she didn’t even touch _herself_. And it made her shy and squirmy around him. She was relieved to be away from those emotions when she knew they couldn’t possibly be returned. Sure, he was a man beneath all that armor, but, he was a man that could never remove his helmet, a man that could never kiss her or run his mouth over her. She flushed at her own thoughts. But, ever since she’d tried to create some distance, he’d grown cold towards her, irritated and detatched. It was for the best, she told herself. It needed to be done. Maybe it was because they were on a foreign planet now and he was anxious for her, but he was reverting back, being more protective and touchy. 

“I want you to carry a blaster and knife, for protection. Don’t use them unless you have to, and I’d really prefer you didn’t use the knife on someone. You don’t need to be that close. Remember how I showed you to hold it?” He asked, offering the blaster to her.

She nodded, taking it from his hand and aiming it at a nearby bin, displaying the proper form he’d suggested for her height and build. He nodded.

“Good. Let me attach these,” he gestured, setting her blaster down behind him as he knelt in front of her.

She blushed out of habit. It was strange, still, being so close to him. Even though he’d held her almost everyday and petted her hair, it seemed so intimate for him to be in that position. His hand wrapped around her calf and lifted it up for her foot to rest on his knee. The position tested her balance and she tilted, using her hand on his new pauldron to steady herself. She was wary of touching him where he didn’t have armor, and it was mostly out of respect for him. He wrapped the strap twice over her calf, pulling it tight and adjusting the buckle to fit more snugly against her trousers. When he seemed content with it, he slipped the knife down in the sheath. The other strap wrapped around her waist, and even the smallest hole left it too loose around her, because it was meant for him, so he punched another through the leather and fastened it on her. Finally, he stood, and easily passed the blaster through the opening. She looked up at where she imagined his eyes were, and he nodded once more.

“Stay close. I didn’t see anything when we landed but let’s be cautious.”

She followed him off of the platform, silently grateful to have her feet on flat ground again. She closed her eyes as she felt the sun on her skin, warm and penetrating just as it was where she grew up. The heat was overwhelming. It washed over instantly, and though it felt nice to be back in the warmth of a sun, she remembered how easily she’d been burned by the heat before. She obeyed him, moving swiftly and quietly behind as he shut the hatch and moved onwards. It wasn’t until he was tackled to the ground that she even registered the blurrg. She gasped in shock, not knowing what to do as he wrestled with the creature, grunting and shoving before he whipped his stun gun around him. She looked on in horror for a second, grappling with the blaster at her hip in uncertainty. What if she accidentally hit him? She whipped the knife from her calf instead, and without really thinking, she screamed at it.

“Hey you big fat, stupid beast! Over here!” She screeched, and almost immediately the animal looked up at her.

She saw the Mandalorian whip his head towards her, and though she couldn’t see his face, it was clear that he had been less than pleased with her announcement. She swallowed as the creature began to charge for her, and then another, which she hadn’t even seen, came barreling towards her at her left. She pushed her foot behind her and raised her hand, knife brandished, as she steadied herself, preparing for the blow when she realized even a blast from his gun at the animals did nothing. And then...then they were tumbling down, tripping over their feet before landing, seemingly dead, at her feet. Her eyes snapped up in wonder until they landed on a male riding on the back of a creature just like the one that lay before her.

“Do you have any idea how stupid that was?” The Mandalorian seethed, approaching her swiftly, completely disregarding their savior.

She swallowed as he grabbed her shoulders firmly and looked down over her, silently checking for injury. When he seemed satisfied that she’d gone untouched, he turned back towards the creature.

“You are a Mandalorian. I will help you,” he stated, glancing at the girl.

“Do you know why I’m here?”

“You’re a bounty hunter,” he said simply.

“Why would you help me?”

“I will in exchange for half of your bounty you helped capture. And, I’ve never met a Mandalorian.”

Mando looked back at the girl then nodded,” You can have them both.” 

“You’ll need one to get over the pass. I have spoken."

_______

When they arrived at the Ugnaught’s hut, he informed Mando and the girl about the creature that was being held captive, and that the only way to get there was by riding a blurrg. Mando immediately told her that she would stay with Ugnaught when he went, which she wanted to protest, but one turn of his helmet had her silenced. She stood with the Ugnaught at they watched the Mandalorian attempt to battle the blurrg into submission.

“Why do you travel with a Mandalorian guild member?” He asked.

She looked at him and then to Mando who tilted his head, clearly listening despite his attempt to focus.

“Mando saved me from a rotten Sullustan master. He bought my freedom, and he means to deliver me to a place I could call home.”

“Don’t you have a family you could return to?” The Ugnaught asked.

She was quiet for a moment, her memory coming in flashes of her family, and her head lowered to the ground.

“No,” she answered gravelly, clearing her throat. “No, they were killed when I was taken captive.”

“By a Sullustan? They aren’t usually the type to seek conflict.”

She shook her head,” No, I was sold to the Sullustan.”

She flinched whenever the Mandalorian was thrown off the back of the blurrg, and he grunted before shoving himself off the ground.

“This is ridiculous. I can’t ride this stupid animal. He doesn’t want to be ridden.”

“That’s a female. All of the males are killed during mating. But if you insist. I only assumed a Mandalorian would be able to ride a much weaker version of the Mythosaur they once conquered.”

Disgruntled he tried again.

“You were sold. Then who conquered your village?”

She swallowed and looked away,” It doesn’t matter much now. After I was sold to the Sullustan those troops were destroyed by the Imps.”

He tilted his head in acknowledgement,”Are you to serve the Mandalorian, until he frees you?” 

Her brows drew together at that, and slowly, she shook her head,” He’s asked nothing of me, even when I…offered, as I was told to do so. He takes no pleasure in my company.” 

Her voice was soft, shy and childlike, but the Ugnaught looked up to her,” Maybe not in the manner in which you’ve been trained.” 

She looked to him for a moment, then stared longingly at the man in armor. This time he stayed on. 

______

It was sunrise when he finally left, and though she had attempted to protest again, her desire to travel with him was shot down just as quickly as the first. They had all sat together around the fire to eat, but Mando would wait until they had gone into the hut before he ate. She felt used to his watchful gaze, overseeing her nourishment, and she knew better by now to not eat all she was given. He did participate in conversation, adding small comments to the topics they generated. 

“Thank you, Ugnaught. Are you sure you do not want some of the bounty? It is the least I could do,” he said finally, and the small creature stared up at him. 

“ I have a name. And no, the blurrg and the peace you will bring to this planet is payment enough.” 

“What is it? Your name?” the girl interrupted, tilting her head curiously. 

“Kuill, and I don’t believe I have yours.” 

She smiled warmly, her cheeks painting a soft rose color as she remembered it, almost like recalling an old friend. 

“Alyssa, after the Alyssum flower. My mother grew them in her garden…they were favorite.” 

She felt both of their eyes on her, and she looked back down to her bowl in shame. That night, after the Mandalorian had returned from eating in peace, he moved to the small bunk she was laying in, fiddling with the corner of his cape. She scooted over, making room for him as she made herself small against the wall, but he shook his head, sitting down in front of the slightly elevated platform. 

“I never asked,” he said, the monetizer adding some unwanted static to his voice,” about your family or your name.” 

She shrugged,” I don’t really remember much and I guess it doesn’t really matter now, with them all being dead.” 

“How old were you?” 

She stared at him hard for a moment, then looked down at the cape again to feel its smoothness across her fingers,” Ten, maybe.” 

“I bet you remember more than you think. Sometimes the mind suppresses bad memories to protect you.” 

She shook her head lightly,"It’s not that I blocked it out, but…"

She sighed, shifting to slot her arm beneath her head,”I was out in the fields when they came. My mother had called for me to come home because I had finished most of my outdoor chores, and it was time for me to come in and help prepare dinner. I didn’t listen because I was stubborn and disobedient, and my brother, Kylon had hurt my feelings one way or another, so I didn’t go home because I didn’t want to cook anything he was able to benefit from. I was chasing cattle when I heard the blasters…I ran back because, well, I thought it was an altercation at the watering hole, but when I got there—“ 

Her breath caught and then she was quiet for few moments as she relived it, vividly. 

“You don’t have to—“ 

“I thought they were gone. I didn’t have anywhere else to go and I had no knowledge about anything except cooking and farming. I had no idea how to power a ship, and like I said, I though they were gone. “ 

“You went back,” he said softly. 

“I found my dad first. He had been, uh, burned with my brother Kylon. They were no use, you know. And then it was Ash, my baby brother. His throat was, erm…My sister was beaten, and it was clear they’d enjoyed her company first. Same with my mother. There were no survivors except me, and I wasn’t left intentionally. I went to my room, tried to gather some of my things, and they came back. I think they were waiting for me. I was beaten pretty badly, but I was too young I guess for their tastes. I woke up for the first time about two weeks later. I’d been in a coma but they wanted to sell me for my hair.” 

“ Your hair?” he interjected, staring at the long,silky try-colored, wheat-toned hair in amazement. 

“They used to use it for basket weaving. I’m not sure why. My mother had always been peculiar about hair so I had never cut it. You can imagine the length. They shaved it, sold it, and then they sold me to an Imp. I was mostly a servant, sometimes I watched his children. They lost their money though, and I went with it. That’s how I ended up in that cantina. I’d been with him for a few months but he wasn’t very good at marketing,” she tried for a soft laugh, then sobered as she thought about her mom. 

“I remember what happened, and I remember my mother liked gardening and keeping her hair long, but that’s it.” 

He didn’t say anything for several minutes, just sat with her, took in her story and thought of his own. Eventually, he removed his chest plate, which drew her tired eyes back to him. She said nothing, almost closed her eyes again to afford him privacy, but he removed the rest of the armor from his waist up, save for the helmet. And then he nudged her leg gently, so she pressed back against the wall, making room for him in the bunk that was even smaller than his. Unsatisfied, he lifted her up and laid her down over top of him, letting her legs settle between his own as her head nuzzled his chest, warm and soft now with just his long sleeved, thick tunic on. 

“You’ll be careful, won’t you?” she asked worriedly, the lump in her throat audible as she spoke. 

He ran a hand gently down her back, threading it gently through those long, beautiful tendrils of hair. 

“Yes.” 

“Promise…Promise you’ll come back?” 

His arms tightened around her middle and she sniffled, relaxing into him fully as she grew sleepy. 

“Yes.” 


	7. Chapter Seven

He was a man of his word, thankfully, and he returned to her later that night. She was hesitant when she saw the floating orb, but she knew better than to ask men questions. When he returned, blood smeared across his chest plate, she lunged at him, unable to contain herself. He caught her gently, swallowing nervously as she hugged him. He ran a gloved hand through her hair, soothing her trembling frame. He explained to the Ugnaught what had happened with the little fellow, and Alyssa was too shy to explain how she already knew of its existence so she just listened instead. After dinner, she and Kuiil went inside for the Mandalorian to eat. They were only meant to stay one more night before they boarded the ship to return to the camp. Mando knew the other guild members would probably be looking for him considering he’d stolen the girl, but he wasn’t as concerned about that now. He would protect her, no matter what. She would be safe. When he came back inside, she slid over for him again, curiously eyeing the sealed, floating orb. His helmet turned towards her and she assumed he was watching her. 

He hummed after a moment, and she smiled lightly. 

“I’m glad you’re safe.” 

“I’m glad you are, too.” 

She shrugged,” I haven’t gone anywhere dangerous.”   
  


He sat down on the edge of the small bunk and removed his boots. He leaned back, sliding her small body overtop his. His gloved fingers ran gently through her hair as she adjusted and got comfortable against him. He didn’t smell as nice now. He was dirty and the shower that the Ugnaught had wasn’t big enough for either them, so they just planned on making it back to the ship. 

“You were in a dangerous situation only a short while ago. I’mg glad you are out if it now.”   
  


She curled against his chest, suddenly unbothered by his stench. “Only because you saved me.” 

She only heard a semblance of a laugh through the mask, and she grinned, waiting for his response. 

“I stole you, little one.” 

“Even better,“ she whispered. 

______  
  


The next day when they traveled back to the ship, they discovered a bunch of Jawas had been picking apart his ship. It set them off on much longer journey, and Mando even had to face a wild beast to get his parts back. They spent the next three days camping out on the ship and repairing it bit by bit, luckily with the help of Kuiil Finally, they were able to take off, and Alyssa had allowed herself to get closer to Mando again. It would’ve been difficult not to considering she’d been literally sleeping on top of him the past few nights. Now the bunk was repaired, so was the shower. 

Mando had fastened her into her seat, something he seemed to enjoy doing. She still blushed every time, but she was preoccupied with the child who was awake now and toying with the gear shift knob. Mando had let him have it considering it still functioned with the little ball. She made them all porridge for dinner, but the baby only ate a little bit of it. She didn’t want to prod, but she was very curious about him. That night, after the child fell asleep, she went to go take a shower. The hot water really helped clear up her mind, and she felt a lot better than she did before. She walked back up the stairs to the cockpit, half-expecting to find him still sitting at the controls, but he was up, fiddling with a packet and a cup. 

“Oh, here,” she offered, immediately taking it from him and moving down the stairs to heat up some water. 

He followed, staying close. She was suddenly very conscious that she was only wearing his red tunic, the tight one because it was the warmest and most comfortable. It was also the only clean thing she had left. A cool breeze slid past her legs, and she shivered, turning to offer Mando the cup of tea. He took it from her hands, but he didn’t move away, standing in front of her now, quietly. She breathed slowly, trying to keep her heart calm. 

“Alyssa,” he said gently. 

She smiled meakly. “Mando.” 

“You’re cold,” he responded quietly, his voice vibrating through the moderator. 

“I’m okay.” 

“You’re shivering.” 

Before she could make up an explanation for it, he went to the cupboard and removed a box. It wasn’t very large, no bigger than a briefcase, but he opened it and pulled out a soft gray blanket. He turned and draped it over her shoulders. She blushed. 

“Thank you.” 

“Go get some rest. I’ve got to reroute the course.” 

She nodded and then hesitated,” Are—Are you going to come to bed?”   
  


He glanced back at her, his helmet turning to observe her for a moment. “Yes.” 

She went back to his bunk and curled up beneath his sheets and now her new blanket. She scooted to the far end, closest to the wall to leave enough room for him. She missed being on the ship. His bunk smelled nice, like him, and his bed was comfy. She couldn’t really fall asleep, so she just laid there, staring up at the ceiling, listening to the lazy whir by. Nearly an hour later, the door opened again. He turned towards her. It was dim, so she could barely make him out, but she could feel his eyes on her. 

“You’re still awake.” 

“I couldn’t sleep.” 

He stripped his leg armor off and then the pieces on his arms. He was still completely covered, not that she would’ve been able to see anything clearly anyway. 

“I’m going to take a quick shower.” 

She nodded, then remembered he probably couldn’t see her. “Okay.” 

So she waited as he grabbed clothes and ambled into the small room. She listened as the water cut on, waiting for the tell-tell clink of his armor against the floor. He showered quickly, and then he was out again, closing the door behind him. He was still wearing the helmet, and it made her feel bad. 

“I could sleep upstairs if you would be more comfortable. I know you can’t take the helmet of in front of me and that can’t be—“ 

“No,” he interrupted sharply. “No, um, just a moment.” 

He moved around the window for a brief second, and then the stars were being covered by a dark cloth. He finished his adjustments, and then a soft buzzing sound alerted her that his helmet was being removed. She could hear his breathing more clearly now, unfiltered. She swallowed anxiously as he took his armor out of the bathroom and set it on the ground. 

“When you wake up tomorrow, wait for me to get dressed,” he said. 

His voice was more gravelly than she had expected, but she felt the bed shift, and him slip into it. She held her breath as he got comfortable, and then he gently touched her arm with his bare fingers. She shivered and leaned into him. 

“Is this okay?” she whispered, moving to lay on his chest as he tugged gently on her elbow. 

“I don’t know. But I’d rather not find out,” he whispered back. 

His breath was minty and warm as it fanned her face. She was facing him, supporting herself with her palms on his chest. He was wearing a short sleeve shirt, something thin and tight, so she could feel his muscles beneath it. She was staring up at him in the darkness, wondering what he looked like. Hesitantly, she sat up a little bit, and she lifted her hand to his neck. He was clean-shaven, at least there he was. She waited for him to reprimand her, or to push her away, but he didn’t. She traced his jaw lightly, feeling his warm skin, small imperfections, his nose, then down the curve to his plump lips. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to very badly. His hand gently wrapped around her wrist, guiding her hand up to his eyes, which were closed and fluttering beneath her fingers, then back to his hair where one hand threaded through, gently toying with the strands that were longer than she’d expected. 

“Can I ask what color your hair is?” 

He chuckled,” Brown.” 

“Yes, but what shade of brown?” 

“Dark brown.” 

“And your eyes?” 

“Dark brown.” 

Her other hand trailed back to his lips, and he pressed a gentle kiss to them. She pulled her hand back, determined, and she bent down and pressed her lips to his. He didn’t move for a second, and then he was kissing her back, pressing a hand to the back of her head to keep her there as he gradually deepened the kiss, skirting his tongue across her bottom lip with a sigh. After a second, she pulled back, afraid to push things any further, and he didn’t mind. Enjoying her company instead. She slumped back down and laid against him, one hand still lightly toying with his hair. 

“Goodnight,” she whispered. 

“Goodnight, little one,” he replied. 


End file.
